


Alas We Must Speak

by Semi_Weird_Shipper



Series: Weirdo's Slasher/Bad Guy Stories [11]
Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Antisocial reader, Blood and Injury, Building trust, Character Development, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Jealousy, Loss of Virginity, Michael is a jerk, Pyramid Head is trying, Size Difference, Slow Build, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:47:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26809867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semi_Weird_Shipper/pseuds/Semi_Weird_Shipper
Summary: The Entity has been causing strange problems for both survivors and killers. Dwight goes missing and a very antisocial reader finds herself taking over as the new leader. Frankly this wouldn't be much of a problem if it hadn't been for the two new survivors Michael Myers and the Executioner.
Relationships: Michael Myers/Reader, Pyramid Head (Silent Hill)/Reader
Series: Weirdo's Slasher/Bad Guy Stories [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1744741
Kudos: 173





	Alas We Must Speak

**Author's Note:**

> So this story starts off in an epilogue like situation because it's always fun posting a chapter worth a million questions. In this story, we focus on Michael and Ex's character development as well as the readers. It all leads to the main question of who exactly the reader ends up with, and also if Michael and Ex even get to stay as survivors.

The rain of Red Forest was cold. Once you were able to move, you immediately threw up the hood to your old, worn out jacket and tugged vigorously on the pull strings. Once you felt comfortable enough, you take a quick peek around to see that Michael had already gotten a head start working on a generator with an eagerly approaching Claudette to help. Oh Claudette.... For someone with such an outstanding mind set and big heart, she sure had low standards in men. You rolled your eyes and crept along the path that would take you to the furthest generator from your beginning position. Anyone with two split seconds of common sense would know to start where the killer least expected.

As you trotted through the tall, heavy grass, your pants and shoes grew wet and you shivered. The generator was near the killer shack, honing lots of exit ways and places to hide. Jackpot. You begin to work on it, wincing when you heard a rather sharp breakage of glass exploding somewhere off in the background. It must be the Clown. You sighed, thinking about how unfit you were to be labeled as the new leader. Why even try when no one listened to you? Especially that egotistical, rude, high headed Michael Myers....

"Excuse me," You remove your greasy hands from the half working generator and turn your head back, chest already deflated in recognition of the deep, sturdy voice. It was Ex (The Executioner. Aka: Pyramid Head). He was standing there motionlessly in his big, leather work boots, loose jeans and dirty button up. His long, dark brown hair was beginning to hang as heavily as the wet grass while the rain continued to fall.

Standing up, you turn and gaze at the ground, not really wanting to look into his sunken brown eyes. "Do you need something?" You ask somewhat awkwardly. Even though you were supposedly the leader now, it didn't change the fact that you weren't a socially talented person.

"How do you open a chest?" He asked, his voice hoisting only the faintest hint of curiosity.

You blink at him and sag a little, but tried to give him credit for being new to the survivor side. Obviously there were things he had yet to understand and needed guidance with. At least he asked questions instead of going alone as if he already knew everything like Michael did. "Yank on the lock," You mumble in your low tone, eyes drifting to the generator.

"I tried that," He spoke back, his ancient voice making it sound as if everything was a serious matter, "Will you come show me?"

You almost hit your head on the generator, desperately complaining in your mind to the Entity to bring Dwight back and punch these two idiots back into their place in the killer camp. Leadership wasn't your strong suit. Just being around people in general made you uncomfortable. You didn't favor having to go around with this gigantic lump to show him how things worked all the time.

Standing up, you nod your head and begin to walk to the killer shack. Ex wandered behind you, his warm breath so close you thought you could feel it. Your body uncontrollably sprang out with goosebumps that you blamed on the cold rain. When you went into the basement, you pause at hearing the sound of Claudette's sharp, piercing scream as she was thrown onto a hook. Great... Just more work you had to do. Rushing to the chest, you kneeled down and take hold of the iron lock, feeling Ex as he kneeled beside you. You almost told him to back off, but couldn't find the vocal strength to do so.

"You grab this and just keep pulling until it breaks off," You explain and begin to yank on the lock, wondering in another distressed part of your mind if Michael could be able to save Claudette. Would he save her? You closed your eyes and nearly groaned, knowing that Michael was the arrogant type who laid under the impression that hooked survivors deserved to die. You figured it was probably just his remaining killer instincts and passion towards the killers themselves, but then again, if ever you were hooked not a time went by that Ex didn't save you. And the big guy had no problems with saving other survivors either. Michael was just a pain in the arse.

When the lock finally snapped off, you threw it to the side and retrieved the medical kit inside. "Lucky you," You say dimly and hold it out for Ex, "It's a Ranger."

"I see," He took the medical kit and nodded in approval.

You made a small, bleak smile before clearing your throat and walking past him. You were going to see if Claudette had been saved or not. Hopefully she had been. You didn't feel like interacting with anyone today. This being the new leader with new survivors to train, you were constantly pulled into trials. You were sick of it. You wanted it to end. This level of responsibility wasn't meant to be thrown into your nimble, little hands.

As you crept along the pillar gatherings, you heard the eager noise of a nearly working generator and turn to see Michael working spryly, not a speck of blood to be spotted on his precious, thick hands. Which meant that he hadn't saved Claudette. Mind now on high alert, you run in the direction you sensed she was hooked at, sneaking behind trees when the Clown stomped past you. One glimpse confirmed he was heading towards Michael. Good. You relax your shoulders slightly and rush to the hook you saw Claudette struggling on. Michael was such a useless.....

Once you pulled her off the hook, she breathed quickly and looked to you with big, anxious eyes. "Where's Michael?" She asked, holding her chest where the hook had pierced her.

You shake your head and wave in the random direction you came from. "Working on a generator," You mumble and pull out a roll of gauze from your pocket, "Here... Let me- Claudette? Claudette, where are you going?"

"It's alright," She turned to give you a look of reassurance, "I'll have Michael heal me."

"But the Clown-" You tried to warn her but she was dead set in going off to find Michael. You slumped back for a moment, mouth hanging open in slight shock. What was with people and Michael? Sure he was a piece of work, but come on... The guy was rude and not to mention he used to be a merciless killer. Where was their sanity?

Pocketing your guaze, you release a small sigh and head in the direction of an untouched generator. From the sounds of things, Michael and Claudette had finished one by themselves while Ex most likely finished the one you had started. If all went well, Michael would heal Claudette and get that one generator working while you and Ex finished repairing the last two.

But such simple plans never worked out the way you wanted them to some times.

You pale and freeze in utter disappointment and disbelief at hearing the sound of Claudette's last scream of death as she was thrown onto a hook where her soul was carried away by the Entity. Seconds later, a generator blasted to life. You glare up at the black portal in the sky and notice that it was right above where Michael had been working. Of course he hadn't healed her. Why did you ever suspect that he was capable of such generosity?

Shaking your head, you start to work on the generator with more fever and depth, unhappy about losing a good team member. Now you were left alone with the x-killer newbs. Wonderful. You might as well waltz straight up to the Clown, have him down you, hook you and then summon the Entity to take you away into an unknown world of dark, clueless bliss. It was a better idea than staying out here in the freezing rain with a deranged, hacking Clown trying to suck the newbies fingers. 

Just as you began to make steady progress, you hear footsteps and look to your right to see Ex walking up from behind a boulder, his medical kit in tow. He had done a decent amount of work if his giant, greasy, gloved hands weren't any implication. You put your focus back on the generator as he joined you, his knees spread far apart so that he could better reach the wire internals. What a beast. You never really felt comfortable around the bigger builds like David, Felix or Jeff. Their aura of control was too overwhelming for your meek, fragile mind to handle. You preferred to stay away from them.

But leaches like Ex and ego dummies like Michael just had to exist for you to take responsibility with.

All of the sudden a glass bottle exploded behind you and pink dust immediately drowned all your senses. You coughed vigorously and wave your hands, causing the generator to explode. Standing up, you make blurry eye contact with Ex and sputter a forceful, "Finish that." And then you rush off.

Eyes watery and senses nagged by the Clown's annoying pixie dust, you clear your mind as best you could and make a bee line for the killer shack. Peeking behind you, the Clown was eagerly reducing the safe distance between the two of you. Heart pounding in anticipation, you shoot left for a pallet and quickly yank it down, screaming in agony when a bottle shattered against your back. What a jerk, you cough, lungs, nose and mouth burning horribly. You waved your hands and slide back over the pallet after sensing the Clown coming in from the side of the trash pile. He threw another bottle on the ground beside you. Disoriented, you ended up running right into him rather than away, and a nasty slice was delivered straight across your upper chest.

Screaming out in more than just pain, you ran away as fast as you could, purposely passing Michael on the nearly working generator he was peacefully paying heed to. It was a dirty trick. You tried not to do it very often, but Michael needed to learn that there were greater responsibilities to surviving than just generators and dignity. He had to be bold, spry, caring and skillful, and needed to stop thinking about only himself. You doubt he even seen you run by. Good thing too or else he would have seen the rejoiced smirk on your face as the Clown lost interest in you and began throwing pixie bottles at Michael.

The delectation didn't last too long though. As you limped through the grass into the building, the throbbing pain in your chest became more and more apparent. Blood oozed from your right breast where the jagged cut burned like liquid fire. You hissed in a breath and make way for the stairs, eyes clouded with tears. You hated being stabbed in the breast. It hurt so much, especially if they managed to get your nipple.

Crouching down behind the dirty wardrobe in the small room upstairs, you try to keep from sobbing or whimpering as you hesitantly unzipped your jacket and pulled it off. Throwing it to the ground, you un-clasped your bra and took it off from underneath your shirt, deeming it unimportant for the meantime. Grabbing your jacket, you dig out all the cheap, rugged gauze you could find and shakily pull up your shirt to start awkwardly applying it diagonally across your chest. You whimpered, eyes stinging with tears and teeth clenching at the intense pain. 

In the background you hear the familiar sound of Michael's stupid shout of misfortune as he was thrown on a hook. Your eyes widened and you messed up on applying the gauze, accidentally ramming your hand harder against your breast than you intended. You slam your fist hard against the wall and ground out a sharp, "Fuck." Why was every little thing going wrong? You sniff and try to focus on getting yourself bandaged as quickly as possible.

"Do you want any help with that?"

Gasping and yanking your shirt down, you look behind you with panicked eyes and see Ex standing just a meter in front of the entrance, medical kit stretched outward in his hand. Flustered and embarrassed beyond all recognition, you close your eyes and lean against the wall in misery. Reluctance and fear demanded you tell the large man to simply hand over the medical kit and go save Michael while you healed, but a part of you didn't want Michael to be saved. Honestly, you kind of just wanted this all to turn into a hatch match. May the best win. You sighed.

"Here," You gasp at noticing how close the x-killer had gotten and move back in retaliation, "Let me help you."

Ex sat down the medical kit and opened it, revealing a much better and cleaner selection of bandages. His eyes moved up to yours and stared for permission you were very unwilling to give. Healing survivors was one thing. Getting healed by them was completely different. The thought of people touching you in any way was repulsive and unbefitting. You didn't like it in any sense. However, right now you were in a dire situation and with a man who's loyalty towards you could outshine the very sun. Be it as it may, you really could use his help.

"Please," You whisper and tear off the gauze. Luckily you had wrapped enough around you to properly cover your breasts. Pocketing the cheap substance, you look away and slowly lift your shirt, "Just hurry."

The man in front of you kneeled and unpackaged one of the sticky bandages. He moved closer, his warm breath washing over you as he cupped your waist with his gloved hand. Biting your lip harshly, you clench your eyes shut and fight hard to keep your body from trembling as he touched you. Ex was careful as he applied the bandage and sealed it around the bloody pool broadening from beneath the gauze. Once it was properly stuck to your skin, he gave your arm a small squeeze and reached out to grab your jacket as he closed the medical kit.

You yank down your shirt and quickly put on the offered jacket, saying gruffly, "Thanks. I'm gonna save Michael. There's a generator almost done where he's hooked. Help me finish it and we can get out of here."

"Understood," He nodded and stood up, offering his hand down for you. Your eyes squinted at the dumb gentleman like gesture but you took the support anyway, wincing at the remaining pain emitting from your chest.

Passing the x-killer, you look up and down the hallways before running down the stairs. Gazing outside, you see Michael hanging limp on the hook beside the killer shack. At least the idiot was bright enough not to try and pull himself off anymore. Locking eyes with Ex, you point to the generator and engage his nod before running off to save Michael. His head lifted at you, long blonde ponytail loose and his shirt bloody. His light blue eyes were sauntering but it still didn't help with the intensity of stress and nervousness you felt in the front of your mind.

Just seconds before the Entity was summoned, you hold your breath as you push him up off the hook. Sputtering quickly, "Ex is working on a gen this way. Come on."

"Heal me first," He demanded in his arrogant, monotone voice.

You look up at the cloudy sky and bite your lip, eyes creasing in anger. When would it end? You look at him and dig out the gauze in your pockets, walking over and forcing his white t-shirt and black vest up. Pearly, thick muscles greeted you with a flex and twitch you ignored with major disinterest and disliking. Unknowingly Michael enjoyed having your soft, cool fingers touching what little of his skin was wounded, and his size made him feel all the more powerful against your distant, shy figure. He stared down at you, wondering why out of all the survivors, you were the one who resisted him the most. He despised it. He despised being ignored. And you did a pretty good job putting him last.

Once you were done bandaging the ego charged jerk, you turn around and make way for the generator. Whether Michael followed or not you could only hope. Crouching down behind a pillar, you watch as the Clown threw a bottle in Ex's direction, the lack of brutal coughing impressing you greatly. For a God like man who normally walked as if he had back cancer, Ex sure could put up a good chase. You just hoped this chase would last long enough for you to power up the last generator.

When the coast was clear, you run up to the generator Ex was working on and force back a grin. Just a few more levers to pull and it was done. Michael miraculously joined you from the other side and in just ten seconds it was blasting to life. The beautiful melody of the exit gates powering on filled your ears with relief. Once you stood up, you see that Michael was already running in the direction of a gate. Some times you wondered if he was more fighter or more coward. Shaking your head, you pull your hood up and wander in the direction you imagined Ex was running in. The sound of his first scream of pain pulling you into a run.

By the time you got to the other side of the main building, you watch in horror as the Clown downed Ex in front of the exit gate Michael was opening. To your frustration, instead of going to help his fellow team member, the arrogant killer ran out the exit as soon as the Clown began to stomp in his direction. Taking this as your chance, you rush over to Ex and grab his arm, looking down at him and saying strictly, "The hatch is inside the building. Leave."

Hearing the Clown approaching after failing to retrieve Michael, you close your eyes and whisper softly, "For the people." Instantly your body ached with pain you ignored as you pulled Ex to his feet and pushed him away, saving him from the sure death blow of the Clown.

Falling to your stomach, you lift your head and watch as your last remaining team mate ran to the building. Luckily for him, the Clown had no interest in following him and instead picked you up and slung you over his shoulder. Only briefly could you wiggle before being thrown on a filthy hook, eyes wide as you screamed in pain. Dang, that hurt. You let your miserable body hang, eyes gazing coldly at the cold, wet ground. One arrogant, rude, disloyal team mate, and one clueless, calm severely loyal team mate. It was a fifty-fifty chance at both death and life. If it hadn't been for your third love derived team member, maybe things could have turned out differently. Oh well... Nothing could stop how things ended up.

While patiently waiting for the Entity to take you away, you hear a noise of heavy breathing and loud footsteps. Eyes bursting open, you turn your head back and see Ex running straight toward you, your body jerking in surprise. "I told you to leave," You spat as his big hands grabbed your arms and gently pulled you off the hook.

"I will not let my leader die when I have the capability of saving her," Ex stated and grabbed your hand, pulling you along in front of him.

You ignore the heavy racing of your warmed heart as you ran to the exit, a small smile tugging at your lips as the Clown's angry coughs faded into nothing but victory inside your head. And you and Ex excaped hand in hand.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not allowing comments because I'm afraid viewers won't like the way I portray Michael and Ex, but I would like everyone to keep in mind that this story focuses so much on character development it hurts. I don't know why I even wrote this. It probably won't do any good but I wanted to give it a chance anyway. I hope viewers liked it.


End file.
